The Craze
by Galbadian
Summary: Tragedy befalls a certain draculina...Hellsing must save her from the one enemy she fears the most, herself. Might be AxS or SxP...or both. Who knows?
1. The Premonition

A/N: Don't own a thing concerning the Hellsing.

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Not for the first time, Seras Victoria ravaged a package of medical blood with her crimson orbs. Like all the times before, she denied herself the tantalizing, vital fluid that lay within the icy bucket. The draculina plucked the bag from the pail and shuffled to the bathroom. She knew better than to dwell upon the sweet, succulent contents that sloshed within the translucent package. Following her daily ritual, Seras sheared the top of the bag with scissors she had managed to appropriate from someplace within the mansion and proceeded to flush the contents down the toilet. Before acquiring the tool, Seras was limited to only her hands and teeth. Ripping the package open meant blood spewing everywhere, something that threatened Seras's dwindling sanity. Once, in desperation, she attempted to open the medical blood with her fangs. That night Walter found her whimpering in the corner of her quarters, facing away from the pool of blood that collected in the middle.

_How pathetic. _

After completing her routine, Seras took a customary look into the bathroom mirror. She watched as her eyes slowly changed from a deep crimson hue to their normal, crystalline blue. After the Valentine Brothers incident, Seras noticed that each night the shift became progressively slower and slower. The coppery scent of blood was everywhere and she remembered being confined to her room until all the gore had been disposed of; it was some of the worst two days of her unnatural life. Letting out a long sigh, the midian shuffled back to the bucket of ice. Before replacing the empty packet, she tore at the edges with her teeth to complete the masquerade. Seras walked to her dresser and hid the pair of scissors within the folds of one of her numerous pairs of yellow uniforms.

Before she picked up the habit, Walter easily identified the first tool she had used to release the blood without mess. A few days afterwards, her combat knife was confiscated. Sir Integra told her it was on the basis that, "Vampires simply have no need for combat knives". Since then, the fledgling learned to hide the existence of her cherished scissors. Unfortunately, Seras knew she was reaching her breaking point. Scissors or not, Seras was losing her tentative control over her humanity. Not for the first time, Seras Victoria wondered how much longer she had left.


	2. The Return

A/N: I don't own Hellsing.

A week had passed since the Valentine Brother's debauchery. Sir Integral Fairbrooks Wingates Hellsing settled into her customary seat behind her rich and ornately carved mahogany desk. The mansion reeked of hospital sterilization. Due to the risk of disease, the whole estate had to be cleared of rotting corpses and miscellaneous appendages before a single repair could be made. The entire process took two days. Reluctantly, Sir Integra was whisked away to a private establishment until the sterilization and most of the base work was completed.

That week had been one of the few moments in which she was without her trusted manservant. Walter opted to stay behind to observe the restoration process and to minister Officer Victoria her daily ration. Integra thoughts remained upon the last notion as she slowly exhaled the smoke from a dwindling cigarillo. "Officer Seras Victoria", she muttered under her breath. She recalled the dejected look from the midian's face after being commanded to remain within the Hellsing complex.

No, Integra thought to herself, she personally instructed Seras to remain within her quarters until she returned. The order derived from necessity, Seras's presence would only hinder the efforts upon the mansion, not to mention the draculina's faltering mental condition. The silver-blonde maiden frowned. Witnessing the unpredictable nature of the Alucard's fledgling was too much to bear. Although Seras proved to be a valuable member within Hellsing, Integra began to fear the worst. Something would have to be done about the draculina.

To make matters worse, the commander of the Hellsing Organization was no less than certain that Seras Victoria continued to refuse the nourishment provided to her. More than once, Integra requested that the empty packets from Seras's quarters be brought to her inspection. That's when she instructed Walter to find the sharp object responsible for severing the packages. However, lately the draculina managed some semblance of ingenuity.

The lady commander slightly shook her silvery locks; the matter of Seras Victoria could wait until another time. More importantly, Hellsing was in dire need of new recruits. Walter, in addition to overseeing the repairs upon Hellsing, gathered information towards the accomplishment of said necessity. Upon the surface of the glossy mahogany, a single folder lay. Integra pulled out the files within, revealing two different solutions. Walter compiled a list of promising candidates from surrounding areas from multiple backgrounds. Integra almost immediately sifted through the information, a mass withdrawal of individuals from either police or military positions would attract too much attention. Integra suspected Walter knew she'd prefer loyal Protestants but also the implications of attaining such a force.

At least someone in the Hellsing compound was reliable. Integra growled at the thought of Alucard. The Nosferatu assumed he would adequately substitute her manservant while he stayed within the manor. That week, Integra destroyed an entire tea set, tea pot and all. Unfortunately, Alucard managed to dodge each piece, although he narrowly missed one of the saucers. Unlike Seras, the No-Life King was not one to be holed up in a solitary room for more than a day. She supposed his presence that week was necessary for the reconstitution of the manor, no matter how much he irritated her.

Sir Integra chided herself for allowing the two midians to supersede her more important thoughts. With a renewed vigor, the commander of Hellsing returned her attention to the documents.

Integra harrumphed, "Pip Bernadotte…"


	3. The Preparation

A/N: Yeah. I've been busy with school work. And lack of motivation. But I'm getting better. I swear? Well. Pretty short chapter anyways. Feel free to comment on the whole accent bit. I may have screwed it up a bit. Lawls.

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A man clothed in filthy garments sauntered through a dimly lit hallway. He had the look of a doctor who had just finished some long and arduous surgery. As he walked he held his hands up, palms facing inward. His latex gloves, along with his white overcoat, were stained with fresh blood. Wet smudges overlapped previous stains and it was a wonder that the overcoat managed to stay white at all. His heels clicked and blood dripped onto the stone floor with each step.

At the end of the corridor, two guards stood, their uniforms meticulously kept. They were formalities rather than actual guards; the notion of guards for the sake of protecting anyone within the complex was rather ridiculous. The blood stained man did not slow his pace. At the sight of him, the emotionless guards swung the doors open to allow him entry.

Long, red banners emblazoned with swastikas adorned the walls. A long table occupied the center of the room; the same twisted emblem marked the furniture as well. Curiously enough, only one chair was placed behind the length of the table and was in use. The resident of the single chair seemed out of place behind the ornate, slab-like table. His appearance did not imply a forceful character suitable to the nature of his surroundings. On the contrary, he was a short, rotund man who sunk deeply into his chair and bore no distinctive features other than an eternal smile.

"How goes the testing, Dok?" asked the man everyone referred to as simply 'Major'.

The man named 'Dok', examined his blood stained latex gloves before wiping them on his overcoat. "The testing is almost complete. Ve vill be able to commence the project once ve haff the subject." Dok adjusted his bizarre glasses before resuming, "Schrodinger has returned from his mission und –"

Before Dok could continue, he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a boyish figure. A boy with cat ears materialized beside the doctor, waving his arms wildly, "Major! I have returned!"

The Dok stammered incredulously, "Sch-Schrodinger! Vhat have I told – "

The Major grinned toothily, "Do not vorry Dok, let Varrant Officer Schrodinger give his report."

The cat boy threw a sly smile to Dok, "Danke!" Schrodinger cleared his throat unnecessarily, much to the Dok's exasperation. "For a veek, the draculina has been all locked up in the Hellsing Mansion vith only the butler to look over her." The cat boy began to laugh, "All locked up vith no vhere to go!"

The Dok looked over to Schrodinger in askance, "Vhat do you mean?"

"The girl refuses to drink the blood given to her. I have seen this! She's so useless!" Schrodinger laughed harder, "She should snap anytime now, Dok." The warrant officer snapped his fingers to emphasize his statement and the Dok grinned eerily.

The Dok turned his attention back to the Major, "All I need is the vord und I vill initialize the experiment."

"Very vell. " The Major chuckled, "Contact the expendable."


	4. The Mercenary

**A/N**: Don't own Hellsing. Bam. Disclaimer'd.

Sorry for the long wait.

Thanks to FakeCompassion, Kiyoshi Nakamura, SayuriStang, and Deshwitat'slover for the reviews.

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He had been spying the girl who had just been leaning on the wall twenty feet away but hadn't taken any special note of her; well, other than her unusually endowed bosom. No, he'd seen his fair share of pretty girls before and so it wasn't her shapely frame that piqued his curiosity at the moment. _No_, thought Pip Bernadotte,_it must have been the way she almost broke my goddamn nose_.

Pip clutched his bleeding nose with both hands and gently felt around for a fracture. And there was.

"Shitfuck", breathed the captain of the Wild Geese.

To make matters worse, a second vampire materialized from the very walls to scare the piss out of the whole company. As if watching a small, feminine figure pummel their captain with only flicks of her finger was not enough to spook the mercenaries. Soon afterwards, the old man who had directed the company through the mansion and the silvery haired chick left the room to discuss god-knows-what. The insane freak in the fedora disappeared as well, leaving through the same wall he arrived.

The mercenary captain turned to his Wild Geese, "Awright, go find your quarters, eh? We don't habe enoub time to stand around."

His men began to snicker and one of them chimed, "Wot was tha' captain? We could nae hear you."

"You know what de fuck I said!" roared their commander. Soon, they filed out of the room, although their captain could still hear them chuckling.

Now only the vampire girl and he remained.

Pip, still clutching his nose, narrowed his eyes and redirected his direction towards the girl. She appeared to be spacing out, and was just staring in his general direction. Or so he had hoped. Even though she had the freakish ability to maim a man with only an index finger, Pip had to admit she was attractive. Maybe it was because of her freakish ability he managed to take her into a more serious consideration. Even now he started to wonder lightheartedly about the implications of vampire sex.

Absentmindedly, Pip dropped both hands from his face and just eyed the young vampire. Then he noticed a warm sensation leaking from his nostrils and down to his chin. The mercenary snapped out of his short reverie and quickly lifted his hands to stop the bleeding. But the look on the girl's face stopped him cold. She wasn't just spacing out: she was staring right at him, right at his nose!

The blonde vampire's eyes widened at the sight of the blood dribbling down the captain's face. Pip watched as her jaw slackened, her mouth agape. She was exhaling heavily through her mouth. Pip leaned forward; completely forgetting the fact his nose was still leaking blood. He could swear her eyes were now tinted with an unusual hue, but before he could discern the appropriate color, she lurched forward.

The girl bared a set of elongated canines and moved mechanically towards the captain. Captain Pip Bernadotte attempted to regain some of his composure and straightened up. "Hey girly, are you alright?" As her feet shuffled across the black and red tiled floor, her body swayed, and she kept her eyes downcast. Alarmed by her trancelike state, Pip's hand drifted to his sidearm and he unconsciously took a step backward.

Big mistake.

The vampire leapt at him, pushing him backwards until she pinned him against the wall. The pressure of her hands pressing his shoulders back made it impossible to exert any meaningful force through his arms. Pip could feel her breath as she inhaled hungrily, as if she was tasting the air and anticipating her next meal.

Then she looked up. Her eyes, a penetrating crimson, forced Pip to imagine he was staring into some sort of abyss, and he shuddered. She looked into his eyes lazily, her body still swaying. Her breathing became more sporadic as she leaned closer until she traced his upper lip with her long tongue, lapping up the wet blood. This time, Pip shivered, but not with the intensity of fear he felt before. The young vampire eventually stopped, and leaned towards his neck lazily, causing the mercenary to inhale sharply. Her bosom pressed against his chest and she hovered above his neck for a moment before probing his skin with her tongue.

Just as Pip thought he would feel sharp incisors cutting through his flesh, the vampire broke off suddenly, using her arms propel herself backwards. Pip watched as she staggered and held her hand to her forehead. She caught his gaze and her eyes widened, their piercing red hue now dull. She stammered something like "Sorry!" and fled the room.

Pip rubbed his neck and examined his surroundings. Blood from his nose splattered the floor and a chair was inadvertently destroyed by the young vampire's urgent escape. Again, Pip Bernadotte found himself breathing the word, "shitfuck".


	5. The Temptation

**A/N****: Chapters are getting longer. I'm trying. ****Really.**

Sir Integra had said something, but Seras couldn't quite comprehend at the moment. A certain scent wafted about the room and had begun to enrapture her senses. She recalled visiting the bakery in Cheddar for the first time: she had gone with her mother to pick up a cake. The sweet smell of fresh bread enticed her and made her mouth water almost instantly.

Almost like now.

This time, the smell was different, coppery. However, it smelled more sweetly than anything Seras could remember, even the bakery. Seras tried to replay the childhood memory, but couldn't. Her limbs began to feel heavy, as if they were not her own. The scent was too tangible, tugging at her senses, enticing them, coercing them.

She vaguely heard the footsteps of the mercenaries leaving the room. Her eyes drifted to the source emanating the wondrous sensation and she chuckled under her breath.

Her body started to move: right foot first then the left. With each step towards the captain, a nagging feeling tickled her thoughts. It questioned her, tested her morality, but with each step, the voice became quieter, more subdued.

A quick movement and Seras was upon the Captain in an instant. She was so close to the source, the delicious crimson fluid stemming from the Captain's nose. She inhaled deeply through her mouth, feeling the air with her tongue, much like how a serpent tastes the air before devouring its prey. She began to caress above the man's lips with her tongue, savoring the sweet taste of his blood.

The taste of blood aggravated her hunger and she could hear the man's heart beak like the crashing of waves. Hypnotically, she bent her head down towards his neck and began to probe the area with her tongue to locate the appropriate area.

Her enjoyment was interrupted by a familiar voice inside her head, '_Why are you taking so long, Police Girl?'_

Seras Victoria widened her eyes. Her tongue had found his artery, but now the pulsing on her tongue and inside her head sickened her. Hastily, she withdrew her tongue and extended her arms, shoving herself from her would be victim.

She staggered backwards, desperate to put distance between herself and the Captain. The taste of his blood still lingered in her mouth and an urging sensation drove painfully into her skull. She stood for a moment, clutching her forehead, attempting to reconcile her thoughts.

When she looked up, she caught the man's eyes and his shocked stare. _That's right, normal people aren't blood crazed, _she bitterly thought to herself. Not that that she hadn't gotten the stares from other Hellsing soldiers before, she hadn't been particularly bothered them. Something about the look the Captain gave her saddened her. Before she could think upon the matter, the scent of blood returned.

Again, Seras felt the familiar pull of hunger eating away at her senses. She managed to stammer out a pitiful "sorry" before darting out of the room. He senses once again dulled by the scent. She felt a sort of intoxication; her vision swam as she bolted from the room. She collided into several pieces of furniture and almost knocked the door off its hinges.

Seras continued to replay the scene in her mind as she continued her mad dash to her quarters. With each recollection, she felt sicker. _I'm despicable, I'm a monster, I'm an abomination!_ She held her head down as she ran, her eyes only paying cursory attention to the ground beneath her feet.

In her haste and inattention, she had failed to pay heed to the rest of her surroundings. Something panged in the back of her mind, and she looked up to see someone blocking the door to her room. By the time she tried to slow her pace, she was too late. She halfheartedly collided into figure.

Seras felt as though she had hit a wall. The person neither budged nor made sound, and Seras remained pressed to the figure's chest, dumbfounded. She remained there until she regained her senses. Soon she realized, the person's chest didn't rise and fall with the exercise of breathing.

With a squeak, Seras Victoria leapt backwards. The No-Life King stood before her.

Alucard wore an amused look on his face and he was without his strange, orange-tinted glasses. Seras wished he had, his eyes neither sparkled nor shone but had a piercing quality to them.

"How was your snack, Police Girl?" asked the elder vampire. The corners of his mouth curled in mischievous delight.

Uncomfortable, Seras averted her eyes from his gaze. She bleakly hoped she could avert his question as well.

Instead, he challenged her with another, "How did it taste, Police Girl?" He emphasized her given title, reminding her of his dominion.

"Disgusting," she lied.

Alucard chuckled before his expression melted harshly, "Your words may lie, but your body does not. Careful, fledgling, soon you will break."

Before Seras could retort, her master vanished into a whorl of darkness. She inadvertently sighed; although vampires lacked the necessity to breath, Seras found she could not drop the habit. Seras approached the portal to her room and grabbed the doorknob to the old, wooden door. She paused before the door and looked to her right hand. Shortly after undeath, Seras quickly realized that temperature was much different for a vampire. Considering vampires did not emit much heat themselves. She wondered if she was any warmer than the metal now clutched within her right hand.

Once again, Seras sighed and she rested her head against the wooden portal. She thought back to the newly recruited mercenary captain. She tried to recall the look in his eyes; his stare wasn't tempered by the usual disgust. Those stares she had somewhat steeled herself against, become accustomed. His stare was different; perhaps it was the softened look of his eyes, the look of pity. Her eyes began to sting, the last thought driving her closer to the edge of an emotional threshold.

_Am I really just something to pity now?_

"I don't need anyone's pity", she breathed aloud. She turned the handle to her room and drifted in.

She walked to her bathroom, it was a simple arrangement: an old sink, a small mirror, a toilet, and a shower space. Seras turned one of the sink's knobs; it didn't matter which, both were unmarked and had the same result. She habitually tested the water, as always, it was freezing. She splashed some of the icy water on her face before proceeding to rinse her mouth thoroughly.

Despite her efforts, the taste still lingered in her mouth, taunting her. Wearily, she turned off the faucet and gazed into the mirror.

Her reflection alarmed her. Her eyes, normally a clear blue, had not yet returned to their normal state. She leaned closer to the mirror and used her fingers to pull her eyelids away from her eyes. Parts of her iris had returned to their normal shade, but the rest was splotched by a dull crimson.

_The change has taken even longer than usual now…_

Seras could sense dawn approach the Hellsing Manor, and began to feel drowsy. She left the bathroom and flipped off the light. Without bothering to change, she crept into the confines of her simple coffin. As soon she closed the lid, her body became inert.


End file.
